Great poetry of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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To the moon-Rydal by William Wordsworth

Queen of the stars! so gentle, so benign,

That ancient Fable did to thee assign,

When darkness creeping o’er thy silver brow

Warned thee these upper regions to forego,

Alternate empire in the shades below

A Bard, who, lately near the wide-spread sea

Traversed by gleaming ships, looked up to thee

With grateful thoughts, doth now thy rising hail

From the close confines of a shadowy vale.

Glory of night, conspicuous yet serene,

Nor less attractive when by glimpses seen

Through cloudy umbrage, well might that fair face,

And all those attributes of modest grace,

In days when Fancy wrought unchecked by fear,

Down to the green earth fetch thee from thy sphere,

To sit in leafy woods by fountains clear!
O still beloved (for thine, meek Power, are charms

That fascinate the very Babe in arms,

While he, uplifted towards thee, laughs outright,

Spreading his little palms in his glad Mother’s sight)

O still beloved, once worshiped! Time, that frowns

In his destructive flight on earthly crowns,

Spares thy mild splendour; still those far-shot beams

Tremble on dancing waves and rippling streams

With stainless touch, as chaste as when thy praise

Was sung by Virgin-choirs in festal lays;

And through dark trials still dost thou explore

Thy way for increase punctual as of yore,

When teeming Matrons yielding to rude faith

In mysteries of birth and life and death

And painful struggle and deliverance prayed

Of thee to visit them with lenient aid.

What though the rites be swept away, the fanes

Extinct that echoed to the votive strains;

Yet thy mild aspect does not, cannot, cease

Love to promote and purity and peace;

And Fancy, unreproved, even yet may trace

Faint types of suffering in thy beamless face.

Then silent Monitress! let us not blind

To worlds unthought of till the searching mind

Of Science laid them open to mankind

Told, also, how the voiceless heavens declare

God’s glory; and acknowledging thy share

In that blest charge; let us without offense

To aught of highest, holiest, influence

Receive whatever good ’tis given thee to dispense.

May sage and simple, catching with one eye

The moral intimations of the sky,

Learn from thy course, where’er their own be taken,

“To look on tempests, and be never shaken;”

To keep with faithful step the appointed way

Eclipsing or eclipsed, by night or day,

And from example of thy monthly range

Gently to brook decline and fatal change;

Meek, patient, steadfast, and with loftier scope,

Than thy revival yields, for gladsome hope!

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